


Living for Love

by JamieJam93



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction
Genre: Brief Smut, Brief anorexic behavior, F/M, Harry is older than Louis, M/M, Mentions of past anorexia nervosa, Mentions of past self-injury (cutting), body image issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:25:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieJam93/pseuds/JamieJam93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel/Part 2 to 'Dying for a Dream'. </p><p>Years after Louis and Harry first fall in love, Louis is still battling his demons, but Harry is there every step of the way. Things are getting better. For the first time in a while, Louis wants to live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is being posted much earlier than I thought, as I had a change of plans in my life. Nothing bad, though! So...I hope you like it :) 
> 
> (This is a multi-chapter also, but it will be shorter than 'Dying for a Dream')

_Dear diary,_

_I know I haven’t written in a long time, but that is probably a good thing considering my state of mind in my other entries. I’m 23 now, and things have changed a lot. They’re much better. Harry and I are still together, and I love him. I love him so much. My goal for everyday is to remember and appreciate how incredibly lucky I am. Life hasn’t been easy. I’ve relapsed from my anorexia three times since my first stint in rehab, but I’ve recovered the same amount. Each time, Harry was there. I know it was hard for him, but he never gave up on me or us, and he’s never even done so much as raise his voice at me._

_After the last entry, Harry helped me recover for real. It took me a while. I think it was a full year before I was in the range of ‘normal.’ We were both so young, and I know that most people Harry’s age couldn’t deal with someone like me, but he was so patient and wonderful._

_The lowest weight I’ve ever gotten to was 43 kilos, after Harry and Zayn moved to London to prepare for opening their tattoo shop and I was stuck at home finishing up my final courses for school. Harry called every night and visited every weekend. Sometimes he and Zayn would even take Liam and me to London for the weekend to stay with them in their apartment. Occasionally, Niall and Doniya would join us too. It was fun, always, but just two day visits and a phone call at night wasn’t enough. I depended on him to function, which I know isn’t right, but I couldn’t help it. I was still so insecure and everyone in London seemed so glamorous and beautiful. They were what I thought Harry deserved. They weren’t me. Harry never gave me any reason to feel like that, of course, but it was the eating disorder taking over again. I knew that too, and I tried to fight it, but in the end, I was hospitalized and then sent back to rehab. I recovered and was alright for about a year. Then a lot just started happening. I got out of school and Harry and I were preparing to move in together. Those were both positive things and I was happy, but I felt so much pressure not knowing what I wanted to do with my life. While I worked on figuring that out, I had a couple odds and ends jobs that kept me busy but that I didn’t really like. I ended up just too tired and stressed to eat. I noticed what was happening before it got too serious that time and started going to therapy a couple times a week._

_Part of therapy was writing about how I was feeling, which I did in poems or songs. My therapist loved them and asked if she could show them to her friend who was just getting off the ground with her singing career. I said she could. The friend ended up buying some from me, and things took off from there. I am now a full time writer, going under the pen name Tommy Stiles, and I love it. I’ve been in recovery from my eating disorder for almost two years now and I feel good, physically and emotionally. It’s not easy. I can still find flaws with every single part of myself if I try, but I’ve stopped trying to for the most part. I still hate my stomach that never seems to tone like the rest of me, my voice is still a bit too high for my liking, and my thigh gap isn’t as big as I dreamed of, but I don’t dwell. Well, I try not to._

_There are still sometimes I can’t bring myself to eat, but they’re rare. Harry is amazing through those times also. He never makes me eat, thinking it better to let me skip a meal than force feed me, only to have me make myself sick later. He’s right, and usually I’m ready to eat again by the next meal._

_I haven’t cut in a while. The last time was before I entered rehab for the second time. My scars are faded and most are almost invisible now, but I still see them and I hate them more than I hate my body, even. Harry always tells me that they will keep fading and that they are nothing to be ashamed of anyway. He says that mine should remind me of how strong I am for getting through what I did._

_Harry is absolutely amazing, all the time._

A light knock on the door made Louis look up, shutting the diary quickly and setting the pen on the nightstand before Harry entered.

            “Oh, sorry,” the older man apologized, eyeing the small book on Louis’s lap. “I was going to say we should probably get ready to leave, but if you’re busy, we can do it some other time.”

            Louis shook his head, throwing the diary on the bed and stretching a bit.

            “I want to do it today.”

            “Okay. You need to eat something first, though, babe.”

            “Whyyy?” Louis asked with a groan. Eating was really the last thing he wanted to do at the moment, for reasons he thought Harry should find obvious.

            “You’re much less likely to pass out or get sick if you’re not getting tattooed on an empty stomach.”

            “Why would I faint or puke anyway?!” Louis asked, alarmed. “How painful is this?!”

            “It’s nothing you can’t handle.”

            “That doesn’t really make me feel better,” Louis admitted, “but alright. What should I eat?”

            “There’s peanut butter toast waiting for you downstairs already, my love,” Harry answered with a smile.

            “Perfect,” Louis said. “I love peanut butter toast.”

            “I know you do.”

 

            Once Louis and Harry arrived at Harry and Zayn’s (very successful) tattoo shop, the other boys were already there.

            “Horan, did you really just bring your baby daughter to a tattoo parlor?” Harry asked, leaning over to give the little girl in Zayn’s arms a kiss on the head.

            “Yes I did,” Niall answered shamelessly, shoving about half of his doughnut into his mouth.

            “You’re vacuuming,” Harry said while Louis took Zayn’s niece from him, kissing her on the cheek as she giggled, tickled by his scruff.

            “How is Miss Chloe today?” Louis asked the baby, who simply chewed on her fingers in response. “You’re not allowed to laugh if I cry,” he warned.

            “Why not? I will,” Zayn said. Louis glared.

            “Well, luckily, Chloe is much nicer than her uncle.”

            Niall and Doniya had gotten married at nineteen, and Chloe had been born one year ago the previous week.

            _(“You knocked up my sister!” Zayn had exclaimed furiously when he’d found out Doniya was pregnant._

_“We’re married,” Niall had pointed out. “Besides, you’re the one that hooked us up.”_

_“For a stupid school dance!” Zayn continued._

_“That was almost eight years ago. How long did you honestly expect us to wait? Anyways, at least I’m a gentleman. You took my brother’s virginity in the back of a god damn car.”_

_“A nice car though. You took advantage of my sister!”_

_“We’re married.”)_

 

            “Are you all watching me get tortured?” Louis asked, handing Chloe to Uncle Liam, who had made grabby hands at her the moment he realized his friend was looking for someone to give her to.

            “Yup,” Zayn answered, popping the ‘p.’ “I brought the popcorn.”

            Louis groaned.

            “Hey, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Harry said gently, putting an arm around Louis’s shoulder and pulling him into a kiss.

            “I want to,” Louis assured him.

            “Okay. Let’s get you seated and shaved then, yeah?”

            Louis would be lying if he said he wasn’t terrified as Harry sat him down, shaved the necessary area and buckled his wrist down to the arm of the chair, but he wasn’t backing out. He’d been through about eight years of intense mental and physical pain. A little tattoo would be nothing.

            “So this looks good to you?” Harry verified, getting out the white sheet of paper he’d sketched Louis’s future tattoo on. Louis smiled looking at the picture; almost an exact replica of the pen ‘tattoo’ Harry had given him long ago. The only difference was an obvious show of more experience and better techniques, though Louis really didn’t care what it looked like as long as Harry drew it.

            “It looks wonderful,” Louis assured him, stealing a look at one of Harry’s many tattoos. He’d gotten the matching anchor a few months ago, and Louis had known since then that he wanted the rope, but he wasn’t the biggest fan of needles. He’d finally made up his mind to just do it a week ago, and so Harry and Zayn had agreed to open up the shop early just for Louis the following Saturday.

            “Are you ready?” Harry asked after all the prep work was done, kissing his boyfriend’s forehead, nose and then lips.

            “I’m ready,” Louis replied, leaning forward a bit and puckering for another kiss, which Harry gave him.

            “Do you want a warning before I go in or should I just go for it?” the tattooist asked.

            “Gross,” Niall commented. Zayn snickered, but the others ignored him.

            “Warning, please,” Louis answered.

            “Of course.”

            Harry (and the needle) were a few inches from Louis’s wrist and the man had just opened his mouth, presumably to give his boyfriend the desired warning, when Zayn spoke.

            “Harry, why are you shaking?”

            “What?!” Louis yelled louder than he meant to, jumping as best as he could with his wrist strapped down.

            “I’m not shaking,” Harry said, shooting a glare to his friend, “You do not have permission to speak anymore, especially since you can’t even tattoo your own boyfriend.”

            In school, Zayn had no problem beating up people he deemed worthy of it, or just if they made him mad, but the one time he had gone to give Liam a tattoo that the man actually wanted, it had been Zayn passed out on the floor before he had so much as poked him with the needle. Louis thought it was cute, honesty, but though it had been over a year ago, Harry still hadn’t let the poor guy live it down.

            This time, it did get Zayn to shut up, though.

            Getting tattooed wasn’t as bad as Louis had thought it would be because he concentrated on the way Harry held his arm still with gentle fingers, the cute look he always got when he concentrated present on his face the whole time. Louis swore Harry must have asked if he was okay at least twenty times, looking quite distressed with the possibility that the answer might be ‘no.’ Usually, Louis said yes, because he was, but occasionally he would ham it up to get a kiss.

            “It’s so beautiful,” Louis commented when Harry had finished.

            “Not as beautiful as you,” Harry commented back, “but I’m glad you like it.”

            “I want a tattoo,” Doniya, who had arrived from her hair appointment halfway through, said.

            “Where?!” Zayn asked, face clearly showing excitement. “I’ll do it!”

            “I was thinking my boob,” she replied, causing Zayn’s excited face to morph into one of horror.

            “Never mind.”

            “Thanks for being so excited to stick a needle in my skin; your own flesh-and-blood, when you couldn’t even do it to the man who you refuse to marry.”

            “I don’t refuse to marry him!” Zayn defended. “I just want to ask when he least expects it so he will be surprised.”

            “At this point, I’m sure he’d have a heart attack, but whether that would be from utter shock or old age, I don’t know.”

            Liam leaned across his boyfriend to give the woman a high-five, and Zayn’s expression then turned to a pout.

            “Stop pressuring me! Louis and Harry aren’t married either!”

            “Yet,” Harry spoke up.

            “Exactly,” Zayn agreed. “I’m not married _yet_ either.”

            “The shop is officially opening in less than an hour,” Louis interrupted. “I guess I should be going. So I’m picking you up after work, Curly? You know, since we rode here together.”

            “I took the day off,” Harry said. “Didn’t I tell you?”

            “No…”

            “Huh. Well, I did and we have the whole day together…unless you have something to do, of course.”

            “It appears that the only thing I have to do today is spend it with you.”

            Harry smiled and knelt down to kiss his boyfriend, fingers brushing the area of skin just above the rope.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This keeps wanting to say I'm finished with this fic...I'm not. There will be six chapters.

            For the next few days, Louis spent his time planning out what tattoos he wanted to get next, though Harry advised him to wait, as they were leaving for a vacation in Jamaica in just a few weeks and new tattoos couldn’t get wet.

            Louis was both excited and nervous for vacation. He’d never been on a vacation before. He’d never even been anywhere besides Doncaster or London, really, so he was very ready to experience something completely new. The fact that it was _Jamaica_ had him nervous because there would be shirtless men. Louis would be expected to be shirtless.

            Though he’d been working out with Liam for a year-and-a-half (Liam was a personal trainer), there were parts of Louis that refused to look good. Though he believed he would always have those problem areas no matter what, he thought he would be in a little bit better shape if he worked out more than three times a week, with an extra day of pure cardio thrown in. Liam told him that was all he needed to maintain his current weight and tone, but Louis didn’t quite believe him. He knew Liam thought he would get addicted to the exercise, (and Harry did too, more secretly), and he understood why. During the worst parts of his anorexia, he hadn’t seen himself wasting away. He saw fat while everyone else saw a walking skeleton, face colorless and hair thinning from malnourishment. They had seen Louis on his deathbed while Louis only felt himself slowly falling off the edge. At the time, he didn’t even care.

He went along with Liam’s too-light workout ritual because it wasn’t like anyone ever saw him without clothes. Harry had never even seen him completely naked. Now, though, he was starting to panic a little, imagining all the hot, fit people staring at his gross, flabby body.

            “Haz?”

            The couple was sitting on the couch, Louis’s legs stretched out onto Harry’s lap as some movie played on their TV in the background of Louis’s internal freak out.

            “Yeah, babe?” Harry asked, turning to Louis as he slipped a crisp in his mouth. Honestly, how Harry was in such good shape was a mystery even to the gods.

            “Would you be mad if I like…kept a shirt on while we’re in Jamaica? Like…all the time?”

            “No, but I have the right to giggle when your legs and arms are golden and your torso is still that of a pale English boy.”

            Louis felt his face drop, horror beginning to settle in. He hadn’t even though of that! Uneven tan lines were _so_ not cute.

            “Babe, babe, babe, I’m joking,” Harry said quickly upon seeing Louis’s reaction, shifting both of their positions so he could give his boyfriend a kiss. “Do what makes you comfortable and I’ll find you irresistible, farmers tan or not.”

            “You’re rude,” Louis said with a small laugh, lightly pushing Harry back so he could stand from the couch.

            “Where are you going?” Harry asked, worry clear in his voice as Louis headed for the stairs.

            “Bed,” the younger man answered. Almost immediately, he heard a pair of feet hurrying after him and a pair of arms soon wrapped themselves around his shoulders from behind.

            “I’m sorry,” Harry said, and Louis could tell just from his voice that his pout was fully in place. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

            “You were joking, Harry,” Louis said, turning in the other’s arms to kiss his lips. “I know that. It was funny. I’m not mad or anything, just tired.”

            “It’s only eight something,” Harry pointed out. “Are you feeling okay?”

            “I feel fine. Stop worrying, okay?”

            “Okay,” Harry said, albeit reluctantly. “I’ll be up soon.”

            “Alright.”

            “I love you,” Harry said after Louis had given him another kiss.

            “I love you too.”

 

            Once upstairs, Louis slipped into his pajamas and washed up before going back to the bedroom and lying on the floor to do some push-ups. He only did fifty, so he didn’t know why he felt a little sick afterwards.

            After a couple days of doing fifty sit-ups per night, Louis came to the conclusion that it wasn’t really helping any, so he upped the count to seventy-five.

            The night before the boys were set to leave, both of them went to bed early, as their flight took off in the morning. Louis took his pajamas into the bathroom to change and examined himself in the mirror once he’d stripped down to his boxers, frustration creeping in. He knew he couldn’t expect miracle results, but he’d been doing sit-ups every night for the past two weeks on top of his normal workout routine and he couldn’t even tell. There was no difference.

            _It wasn’t enough, Louis._

_You’re never enough, Louis._

“No,” Louis whispered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut and focusing on happier thoughts until the voice of his subconscious faded. It didn’t get rid of the churning of his stomach and itch in his throat, but Louis wouldn’t do that. He didn’t do _that_ anymore.

            Instead of giving into those old, resurfacing urges, Louis got on the ground and began doing sit-ups. He surpassed seventy-five and then one hundred. He surpassed one-fifty. He went until he couldn’t, and collapsed back on the floor, head spinning and stomach muscles having a right spasm.

            “Lou?” Harry called from the adjoining bedroom. “Are you okay?”

            “Fine,” Louis called back, fighting off a gag. “Be out in a minute.”

            He didn’t understand. He wasn’t ‘sick’ anymore, but this all felt very familiar, and it terrified him.

            The fear, Louis thought, was what ended up finally making him sick in the end.

            “Aw, baby,” Harry cooed as he entered the bathroom, going to rub his boyfriend’s back as his stomach worked on flipping itself inside out.

            “I’m sorry,” Louis gasped once he finished, grabbing a bit of toilet paper to wipe his mouth and shivering uncontrollably.

            “What are you apologizing for?” Harry asked. “Did you…Lou…did you…?”

            “No,” Louis said. “I was doing sit-ups and I just…I guess I went overboard.”

            Unexpectedly, tears stated falling from Louis’s eyes and he grabbed onto Harry’s shirt as he pulled him closer, crying unabashedly into his night shirt.

            “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t mean to!”

            “Shh, it’s okay, babe. Why are you crying?”

            “It’s not a relapse!” Louis indirectly answered. “I’m better now, I am! It was just an accident!”

“I know it was an accident, boo, and I know it’s not a relapse,” Harry assured the guy, playing with his hair gently with one hand while the other strong arm held his boyfriend close to his body. “That happens to a lot of people when they exercise more than they’re used to.”

            “But I do exercise!”

            “I know you do, but you just pushed your body a little too hard tonight is all. It’s not a big deal, Lou, honestly. Hell, it’s even happened to me. You’re okay. You’re not relapsing. Now you know your limits, and _everyone_ has limits.”

            “Did I ruin vacation already?” Louis asked, tears slowing down but face still pressed into Harry’s shirt.

            “Of course not,” Harry told him, ruffling his hair before kissing the top of his head. “How about we eat a light snack and then go to sleep, yeah?”

            “Okay. I like that idea.”

            The two shared a small bag of pretzels, brushed their teeth again and then got into bed. Usually, Louis was the big spoon, but he let Harry cuddle up to him that night.

            “Do you need to talk about anything?” Harry asked after a couple minutes of silence.

            “No,” Louis sighed. “I was just being stupid; trying to get better abs for vacation and whatnot.”

            “That’s normal,” Harry commented, “but your abs are fine.”

            “I’m sorry,” Louis said once again. “I really try not to be like this.”

            “Everyone has insecurities, Lou.”

            “I am excited for vacation, though.”

            “I’m glad, and I am too.”

 

            In the morning, Louis woke up to a text from his mom, telling him to call as soon as they landed in Jamaica and also during layovers so she would know they were safe. Smiling, Louis sent a text back, assuring her that they would.

            Things between Louis and his mom were much more stable than they had been before. While Louis was in rehab for the second time, Kate, his mother, had gotten help for herself and became sober for the first time since she was fourteen. She learned how to control her temper and how to build a relationship with her son without smothering him. She found a man that treated her right and who accepted both her and her child; their pasts and all. Louis quite liked the guy, and even though he would never call him ‘dad,’ he was comfortable talking to him about most things, and for the others, he would go to Geoff, Liam’s father and his own ex-step-dad. His biological father had never contacted him since Louis had last seen him at age seven, but that was okay. Louis had enough people supporting him. He didn’t need his ‘sperm donor.’

 

            “Are you nervous?” Harry asked his boyfriend as they sat, waiting for their flight to be called. This would be the first time Louis had ever flown, obviously, since he’d never gone anywhere.

            “No,” Louis answered honestly. “Should I be?”

            “Of course not,” Harry said, giving the man a kiss. “If you’re comfortable enough with the ride there, then maybe on the way back you and I can join the mile high club.”

            Louis rolled his eyes, knowing full well that the other man was joking. The pair had yet to have sex, and Louis gave Harry major props for sticking around for eight-and-a-half years without it. The guys he’d dated in school before Harry wouldn’t go for eight days.

            It wasn’t that Louis didn’t want to have sex with Harry, but he just didn’t know if he was emotionally ready to put himself all out there. Though he had been recovered for a while, he knew that a relapse was only one wrong look away, even if the ‘wrong look’ was only in his head.

            Harry never ever pushed Louis to do anything, and Louis thanked the Heavens that he had gotten to Harry while he was a virgin because, since he didn’t really know what he was missing, hand jobs and blowjobs satisfied him quite enough for now. (Louis hoped so, at least.)

            “I am a gentleman, Harry,” Louis replied to the ‘mile high club’ remark. “I wouldn’t take your virginity in an airplane bathroom, even if it is first class. We’ll save that for the second time.”

            “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

            Louis smiled, but then became more serious.

            “Are you wanting to have sex on this vacation?”

            “I want to whenever you’re ready, Lou. I don’t care if it’s today, tomorrow, months from now or years from now. I don’t even care if it’s never as long as I get to call you mine.”

            “Always,” Louis said, laying his head on Harry’s shoulder. “I have a good feeling about Jamaica, though.”

            Louis wasn’t sure if that was actually true, but maybe. He didn’t have a _bad_ feeling.

            “I have a good feeling about Jamaica too,” Harry agreed. “A really good feeling.”

           

           


	3. Chapter 3

            “That was, without a doubt, the longest flight of me life,” Louis commented once their final plane had landed at an airport in Jamaica.

            “That was the only flight of your life,” Harry pointed out, amused smile on his face.

            “It was still too long and I have decided that we will be staying in Jamaica forever because I don’t want to sit still for that excruciatingly long period of time ever again.”

            “We will try to fit flat hunting into our schedules then.”

            By the time the boys had caught a taxi, checked into a hotel and made it to their room, Louis was both antsy and exhausted, but it didn’t stop him from gasping when he saw the room they would be staying in while on vacation. Harry had booked the place all on his own, so Louis hadn’t seen it yet, and he knew it would be nice, but he hadn’t expected a canopy bed, candles, rose petals, Jacuzzi bathtub, waterfall shower and hot tub, nor a mini bar, or an armoire for their clothes.

            “It’s the honeymoon suite,” Harry explained.

            “I had a feeling,” Louis told him.

            “Do you like it?”

            “Haz, it’s amazing.”

            “Good. I’m glad.”

            After giving Louis a kiss on the cheek (both of them felt a little too gross from the plane ride to be very intimate right then), Harry suggested that they call their parents and get to bed. After all, they had a week-and-a-half left to explore.

            “We have forever,” Louis reminded his boyfriend. “We’re moving here, remember?”

            “What about our friends and family?” Harry asked.

            “We’ll send postcards.”

            “What about Chloe?”

            “…Damn it. She does need her Uncle Lou-Lou, doesn’t she?”

            “She does.”

            “Fine. We’ll go back just for her.”

 

            Once they washed up, the boys felt human enough to cuddle as they lay in their very fancy, very comfortable bed, and Louis was half out of it when Harry’s voice pulled him back to consciousness.

            “Do you think you would ever want kids of your own?”

            It took a moment for the question to really register in the younger boy’s mind, and he cleared his throat before answering.

            “I haven’t really thought about it,” Louis admitted. “For the longest time, I had just been focused on me; on my disorder and stuff. I didn’t really think about the future much because I wasn’t sure I’d have one.”

            Making a tiny noise in the back of his throat, Harry scooted closer and placed the gentlest kiss on his lips.

            “You have a future,” he said softly, but firmly, “and there’s plenty of time to think about it. All of it.”

            “I’ll sleep on it,” Louis promised, scooting his own body even closer to his boyfriend and letting the older man wrap him up in his arms.

 

            Louis woke up later to the door opening and closing, Harry talking to someone in a hushed voice before he shut it.

            “Haz?” Louis croaked, rubbing his itchy eyes and sitting up slowly.

            “Sorry,” Harry apologized. “I was trying to be quiet.”

            Louis stopped rubbing his eyes as Harry crawled back into bed, silver tray with covered plates and bowls of fruit in his hands.

            “Breakfast in bed?”

            “Yes. French toast and fruit.”

            “Perfect.”

            Still sleepy, but very content all the same, Louis rested his head on Harry’s shoulder as they ate. For a few minutes, they didn’t say a word, fine with enjoying their meal and each other’s company, but, finally, Louis spoke.

            “I slept on it.”

            “The kid thing?”

            “Yeah.”

            “And what is the verdict?”

            “I think I do want kids, but later, once I’ve been recovered for longer. I feel good now, I do, but it’s still really soon. The last thing I want is for a kid to be around all that insanity.”           

            “We have years ahead of us,” Harry assured his boyfriend, popping a grape into the guy’s mouth. “Plus, we should get married first.”

            “Awww, Harry, are you proposing?”

            “No,” Harry said with a laugh. “Not now. Not like this. I’m not _that_ lame.”

            “Yeah, fruit is good, but not quite good enough to replace a ring.”

            “Diva.”

            “You better believe it.”

 

            After eating and getting their showers, the couple decided to check out the beach. Both stayed in their regular clothes, figuring they would go back and change if they chose to stay there.

            Though he was decently covered, Louis still felt a bit of insecurity as he saw all of the super fit people lounging or messing around with their equally fit significant others. Subconsciously, he started pulling down on his shirt, running a hand down his shorts. Honestly, he didn’t even know he was doing it until Harry slipped his hand through Louis’s, saying quietly; gently, “Stop.” Louis smiled sheepishly up at his boyfriend, who kissed him quite passionately before speaking again.

            “The beach is nice, but why don’t we go look at some dolphins first?”

            “Okay!” Louis said excitedly. He loved dolphins.

            As it turned out, Harry had another surprise for Louis once they reached the dolphin show. Not only would they be watching the performance, but they would also be swimming with them.

            In order to do so, the boys had to change into wetsuits, which were a bit too tight for Louis’s complete comfort, but he was just going to deal with it. He wasn’t going to let his insecurity ruin this.

            When he emerged from the changing area in the suit, his dolphin, Lucy, made a shrieking noise and Harry laughed.

            “I think you turned her on.”

            Louis laughed then too. “She must like big butts.”

            “Your butt was crafted personally by a thousand angels, my love.”

            “Harry, you’re weird.”

            (Louis hoped his blush wasn’t obvious.)

            Swimming with the dolphins was amazing, and the boys planned to try to squeeze that in again before they left. (Anything to see Louis in that wetsuit again, Harry had said.)

            Next, they went back to the beach, changing into their swim trunks first and, for Louis, a black T-shirt as well.

            The plan for the beach was to lay out for a bit, cool off in the water and then play volleyball or something of the sort, but after the two finished lathering each other with sunscreen, it basically just turned into a long make-out session before a short nap on the sand.

            They ate lunch once they both woke again and then rode bikes around the area, stopping every now and then to go into a shop, until dinner time.

            The restaurant they went to was fancy and the food was really good, but both were anxious to get back to their room, having previously decided to try out the hot tub once they’d returned. Harry got into his second pair of trunks as soon as they returned while Louis popped open a bottle of champagne and had a couple of glasses before changing, forgoing the shirt that time.

            When Harry saw Louis emerge from the bathroom in only a tight pair of trunks, a huge grin lit his face. Louis smiled back a little bit and then climbed into the hot tub next to where Harry had already settled.

            “You’re so gorgeous,” Harry all but whispered, his lips immediately finding their way to Louis’s. Louis moved his lips expertly against the other’s, hand reaching up to tug his boyfriend’s curly hair as their tongues wrapped around each other. Just like Louis knew he would, Harry shivered, his kiss becoming stronger at the same time. Louis did it again and Harry unwillingly pulled away as another shiver wracked his body. Louis giggled, leaning up to put a kiss on the tip of the guy’s nose.

            “You’re a tease,” Harry accused, voice husky. Louis widened his eyes, cocking his head as he mustered up the most innocent voice he could.

            “A tease? Who said I wasn’t going to follow through?”

            Harry’s own eyes widened as he crashed his lips against Louis’s again. Louis simply kissed back for a few moments, letting the heat rise a bit before slyly reaching down to grab Harry through his swim trunks. Harry gasped, accidentally biting Louis’s lip in the process and eliciting a small, dainty ‘hmph’ from the smaller man.

            “I’m sor-” Harry started to apologize, but found himself unable to finish as Louis fisted both of his hands in Harry’s hair, French kissing him. Harry whined. Yes, good.

Louis let go of his boyfriend’s hair then, sliding one hand down to rest on Harry’s waist while the other made its way into the man’s trunks.

            “You’re so easy,” Louis did tease then, his voice sultry as he nipped Harry’s ear. That got him a moan, so Louis placed himself onto Harry’s lap, removing his hand from the guy’s shorts and slowly rubbing his body up and down against his front while he once again played with his hair, the younger’s lips finding their way to Harry’s neck.

            “Mmm…Louis…,” Harry moaned.

            “Hmmm?” Louis hummed, making sure the noise vibrated against the other’s skin. Another moan, mixed with a gasp, ensued.

            “N-nothing.”

            “No, what is it, baby?” Louis asked, licking a small area of skin close to where a hickey was forming. “Tell me what you want.”

            “This,” Harry breathed. “Just this.”

            Obediently, Louis started moving his hips faster, creating more friction between the two. Harry’s hands flailed, needing something to hold onto, but knowing better than to grab onto Louis’s hips in a moment of intimacy.

            Still keeping his hips going, Louis took Harry’s hands and placed them onto his ass. Louis didn’t really mind his ass. Maybe it was a little too big, but it was firm and, besides, Harry loved it.

           Once Harry’s hands were in place, the poor man wriggling with need, Louis placed his own hands once again inside Harry’s trunks and jerked him until he came.

            “Okay,” Harry spoke after a few moments, breath still heavy. “My turn.”

            “No!” Louis said, scooting back, just out of Harry’s reach.

            “You never let me help you,” the older guy said with a frown.

            “I make weird faces.”

            “ _Everyone_ makes faces, Lou,” Harry said with a roll of his eyes. “If you want, I’ll close my eyes.”

            He made his way closer, but Louis moved again, back hitting the hot tub.

            “No. Harry…but…besides height, that is the one area where you’re bigger than me.”

            “Oh my god.”

            Looking determined, Harry took his turn in straddling Louis and began to palm him through the swim trunks. Louis squirmed, half aroused and half terrified.

            “Relax, babe. It’s just me.”

            “You said you would close your eyes.”

            So he did, tongue licking his lips in concentration as he worked. The lip-licking was what finally got Louis in the end.

            Once he was finished, Harry waited a few seconds before asking if he could open his eyes. Louis told him he could and Harry opened them just long enough to find Louis’s lips so he could kiss him. Feeling high from both the champagne and years of sexual frustration being released, Louis giggled, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and kissing him back, even more passionately.

            “I love champagne,” he commented after they had shared several small pecks on the lips.

            “I love you,” Harry said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my very first attempt at smut, or anything smut-related. I'm sorry ~.~


	4. Chapter 4

            Harry and Louis went to the beach first thing next morning, wanting to catch some early morning sun. After debating for at least a good five minutes, Louis finally opted to leave his shirt behind. For the first twenty or so minutes of walking along the shoreline and picking out seashells (Harry, apparently, wanted to make them both seashell necklaces), Louis kept a towel wrapped around his torso, but keeping ahold of that soon became too much of a hassle, so Louis then discarded it. He was very uneasy and felt that people were staring, but Harry told him that if they were, it was in admiration. Louis didn’t believe him, but after a while, he stopped caring so much. Maybe his body wasn’t good enough for some people on the beach, but he was good enough for Harry and that was all that really mattered.

           (There had been one random guy that told Louis he was beautiful when Harry went to use the bathroom, and though Louis had a feeling Harry set it up, he didn’t say anything and he accepted the compliment with a smile.)

            Up until that point, he had been having a great time on vacation, of course, but once he’d shed the shirt and stopped letting his fear get the best of him, he enjoyed it even more.

            Maybe it was stupid. It wasn’t like he’d gone to war or anything huge. Hell, most wouldn’t even think what he did was ‘brave’ at all, and Louis guessed it wasn’t, but, to him, it felt like a big deal. He felt like he was one step closer to completely ending the longest, most difficult chapter in his life. He almost felt _normal,_ and that was something he never could say before.

That was one of the many reasons he was dreading going back home. What if, once things went back to normal, he reverted back to his old ways? What if he couldn’t fight the fears anymore? What if they got the best of him again?

            These thoughts, he realized, were also fears, just as damaging, and so he decided to push them away as well. What was going to happen would happen and Louis would get through it. He needed to cherish the moments like these, when he was completely happy; when he was the man he dreamed of being.

            So he did.

            Two days before the couple was set to leave, they embarked on a ‘mini cruise’, during which a boat, smaller than a cruise ship but big enough to where it wasn’t claustrophobic, would take them along the lengths of the beach, stopping every once in a while to let them explore the surrounding cities for an hour or so. Neither Harry nor Louis had been on a boat before, and they stocked up on seasickness pills, just in case. They were happy to discover that neither needed them, though, at least at first. The day had gone spectacularly, both guys all smiles, laughs and kisses; buying things they didn’t need because ‘we need souvenirs.’ It wasn’t until evening that Harry started acting strange.

            By dinner time, Louis was starving, and he figured Harry must be too, as both of them had been too busy to remember lunch, but while Louis ordered more for dinner than he usually did, his boyfriend ordered much less. Louis didn’t think much about it, because why would he? It wasn’t until the end, when Harry grew pale and fidgety that the younger man began to worry.

            “Haz?” Louis said gently, and Harry met his boyfriend’s eyes, giving just a tiny smile in response.

            “Are you okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry told him, reaching across the table to take Louis’s hand in his own. It felt just a tad bit clammy and Louis frowned.

            “Are you sure? Because if you feel sick, we still have those pills, or we can see if they can let us off somewhere and we can take a cab back to the hotel when you’re ready.”

            “No, no, I’m fine, babe, I promise.”

            “Okay…”

            Louis lifted Harry’s hand to kiss the top gently before going back to his food. Harry kept nibbling on his own.

            About an hour after the two finished their meal, the boat docked one last time to let them off, the ‘cruise’ having ended. As soon as the boys’ feet hit solid ground, Harry took Louis’s hand and ran and Louis feared that maybe he was going to be sick after all, but the older man ran straight past the bathroom and just kept running. Louis wanted to ask where in the world they were going, but it was hard when he could barely even breathe.

            Finally, when they had reached the end of the pier, Harry stopped running and Louis collapsed against him while they both caught their breath.

            “Wha-What was all of th-that about, Curly?” Louis asked once he’d found the strength to stand on his own again. Harry smiled sheepishly.

            “I wanted to be at the front for the fireworks,” he explained.

            “You are a strange one, my love,” Louis said, standing on his tiptoes to give his boyfriend a kiss.

            Harry pulled out one of the ridiculous beach towels he and Louis had bought while exploring the shops (the one with flamingos on it) and the two sat down, Harry wrapping his arms tightly around the smaller guy. They didn’t talk much, but that was okay, and soon, other beach-goers began showing up to watch the firework show as well. Louis snuggled closer and, in turn, Harry tightened his hold. After a while, they all but forgot they weren’t alone.

            The fireworks were really good and Louis wasn’t bored at all, but they went on for a while and he was so comfortable in Harry’s arms that he found himself half asleep by the time they were finished.

            As everyone but them started leaving the pier once the show was over, Louis pulled himself from his state of half sleep, looking up at Harry to ask if they were going to head back to the hotel, but Harry looked content, so Louis kissed him and rested his head on his shoulder again, staring out at the dark ocean, eyelids still he heavy.

            Louis didn’t know how long he stayed like that, but he snapped out of his almost-trance when Harry cleared his throat, and he looked back up at the man.

            “Sorry,” Harry apologized, stretching his arms above his head. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

            “I wasn’t asleep. You’re just comfy.”

            Harry smiled, giving his boyfriend a passionate kiss before speaking.

            “I’m so proud of you, Lou.”

            “What for?”

            “You’ve faced a lot of fears on this vacation.”

            “Yeah, I guess, but it was, like…it was hard.”

            “That’s why I’m proud. You’ve been so strong and brave; not just here, but since I’ve met you.”

            “I don’t think ‘strong’ or ‘brave’ are words I would use to describe teenage me.”

            “I would. You had so much to get through, but you did. You got through it all.”

            “I couldn’t have done it without you, love.”

            Harry gave Louis another smile, placing a hand gently on the other’s thigh as he continued.

            “I _know_ it’s been hard for you, Louis, but you never gave up and you fought with everything you had; for me, for you, for us…and I can’t explain to you how thankful I am for that. We’ve had so many good times and a few bad, but we’ve both grown as individuals and as a couple and now I think we’re both ready for the next chapter of our lives.”

            “The next chapter…?”

            Harry didn’t answer, looking deep into Louis’s eyes before beginning to kiss him. Louis was still curious, his heart pounding heavily, but he figured he would get an explanation soon. He was too entranced by the way Harry’s lips were moving against his to demand one at that moment.

            So Louis kissed back, soon nearly forgetting the conversation they had been having. That was, until he felt something be placed in his lap. Pulling ever so gently away, Louis looked down to see a small black jewelry box. His mouth dropped open, and he kept staring to make sure the box was really there; that this was really happening.

            “Louis…will you marry me?”

            Heart actually fluttering, Louis gave a jerky nod, still not all the way convinced he wasn’t dreaming.

            “Um…that was a yes, right?” Harry asked with a nervous laugh, and from the corner of his eye, Louis saw the man mess up and then fix his hair, the way he always did when he was anxious.

            “Yes,” Louis said, turning his head to give Harry another kiss. The older man smiled, muscles relaxing.

            “Open the box, babe.”

            Louis did, the reality that he was not dreaming crashing down on him and forming a huge smile on his face.

            Inside of the box was a thin silver band, but not just any band. This one was unique yet, somehow, still familiar.

            “I’ve seen this before…,” he said softly, wondering if he was being ridiculous.

            “You have,” Harry assured him. Louis bit his lip, thinking. He had never gone ring browsing with Harry. Well, not since that one time when they were still teenagers and Harry had jokingly told Louis to pick out his engagement ring…

            Louis gasped.

            “No…it’s not…”

            “The one you picked out when you were fifteen? It is.”

            “But when did you get it?! And how?!”

            “I got it the same day as you saw it. I had a bunch of money saved up from the past few Christmases and my birthdays for the tattoo shop, but I decided this was a better investment.”

            “We were so young,” Louis said, voice soft. He would _not_ cry. “We weren’t even dating yet.”

            “Even then, I couldn’t imagine ever wanting to marry someone else. Now I _know_ that I’ll never want to.”

“Good thing you don’t have to then.”

            The newly engaged couple shared another kiss before Harry spoke again.

            “There’s something ingrained on the inside,” he said, nodding at the ring, still in its box. Taking it out so, so carefully, Louis examined the inside to find ‘ _H.E. & L.W. 2014-forever_.’

            Another huge smile lit Louis’s face as Harry gently took the ring from him, slipping it onto his fiancé’s ring finger before giving him yet another kiss. Louis couldn’t help it then, and a tiny sob escaped from his throat.

            “What’s wrong?” Harry asked.

            “Nothing,” Louis said, swallowing hard. “Nothing is wrong at all.”

            For the first time, that was the complete truth. Louis’s childhood dream had come true. The thing…the man he had convinced himself he’d have to die for was right in front of him, and Louis was alive. He was so alive.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason, the notes I had at the end of chapter 1 are appearing at the bottom of this chapter...I don't know why, so please ignore it :)

_Dear diary,_

_I’m engaged! And to Harry, of course. God…he is so perfect._

_The best part of all of this is that I didn’t have to starve myself to get him to ask. I didn’t have to scream, silently or out loud, for his attention. I know now that I didn’t ever have to in the first place, but I’m not going to waste time or happiness dwelling on that. I think that, if I didn’t experience so much pain, I would have never been able to feel this much happiness._

_Harry says that I’m strong, and that I’ve always been strong, but I know that’s not true, and that’s okay. Everyone has a weakness, and I just so happened to be my own. I grew strong, though, because of Harry and all of his love, and maybe helping me helped him to grow stronger as well. We are not the boys we were when we were teenagers. We are both so much happier; so much more open…So free, but bound together so tight in love. Cheesy? Yeah, okay, it is, but it’s also true. Love stories do exist and mine is better than I ever could have dreamed, and believe me, I dreamed big._

_This is probably going to be my last diary entry because I’m ready to finally close this chapter of my life. I know all of this will always be a part of my past, but that’s just it; it feels like the past now. The scars will always be here, but I will look at them as proof of how far I’ve come and as a reminder that storms really do end eventually._

_So thank you, dear diary, for being here when no one else was. I’m sorry that I filled you with so much negativity, but every time I wrote, I didn’t cut and I wasn’t purging. And maybe, in that way, I was strong. _

_Love,_

_Louis_

As Louis finished what he planned to be his last journal entry, Harry entered the room, smile on his face as he watched Louis complete his final few sentences. It wasn’t until the younger man set down his pen and the small book that he spoke.

            “Your meeting with that band is soon, babe.”

            “I know,” Louis sighed “I’m getting ready to leave.”

            “Hey, don’t be nervous,” Harry said, voice soft as he sat on the bed by his fiancé’s feet and leaned over to give him a gentle kiss. “They’ll love you and your work.”

            “I hope so.”

            Louis took his turn in kissing the other man before slipping on his shoes, checking his appearance one last time in the mirror and leaving.

            Harry was right, of course, because Harry was always right. The band he met up with-some new group of guys that were on the verge of an outbreak-were all very nice and seemed genuinely excited about Louis’s songs. They must have been, because they bought a majority of the ones he had taken for them to look at.

 

            “Harry!” Louis called the minute he was back inside of their home, throwing the binder with the rest of his writings on the coffee table and hurrying upstairs to find his fiancé. “Haz, love, it went great! Let’s celebrate!”

            Once Louis found Harry, though, he didn’t feel much like celebrating anymore. The man was in the bathroom, nearly doubled over on the ground with his face in his hands, crying. Louis crashed down onto his knees beside him, hand touching the other’s leg, looking for a way to comfort him.

            “Harry, love, what’s wrong?”

            Louis thought Harry really did try to answer, but all that came out was a choked sob and more tears.

            “Are you sick?” Louis asked. “Do I need to call an ambulance?”

            “Lou!” Harry cried, uncovering his face and pulling the smaller man so tightly against him that he couldn’t really breathe properly.

            “Haz, you’re scaring me…”

            “Please don’t be mad.”

            “Why would I be mad?”

            “That book that you left on the bed…I thought it was a new song book. You always let me read your works in progress, and I was curious, so I opened it, but it wasn’t a song book. It was your diary.”

            Louis sucked in a breath, heart nearly stopping. Sure enough, next to Harry lay his old diary.

            Harry rushed to continue.

            “I know I should have put it right down as soon as I realized, but I didn’t and I’m s-sorry. I invaded your privacy and I’m so, so sorry.”

            “How much did you read?” Louis asked, tone flat.

            “Just a f-few entries, but I know it was still way too much. I’m sorry.”

            “Well,” Louis sighed, “it’s not like you didn’t know about all of that anyway.”

            “Yeah, but…but I didn’t know it started because of a _boy_.”

            Louis remained silent.

            “Who was it, Lou?” Harry pressed.

            “It doesn’t matter, Harry.”

            “Please, Lou. Was…was it me?”

            Louis simply sighed again, trying to form a good explanation, but the bit of control Harry had gained over his tears broke again and Louis honestly had no idea what to say. He settled on,

            “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. Why are you on the bathroom floor anyway?”

            “Because I guessed it was me,” Harry admitted with a sniffle. “I just…I can’t believe…I made you hurt yourself, and I just felt so sick and…I was the reason that you…that you were…”

            “No, Harry, stop,” Louis interrupted. “You are _not_ to blame yourself, do you understand? I was the messed up one. I was a sad kid, and I would have developed an eating disorder even if I had never seen you in my life. I was cutting long before you and one self-injurious behavior would have led to another no matter what. It was _not_ your fault and it had nothing to do with you. You were my excuse. I used you to give reason to what I was doing, but that’s on me, not you.”

            “But I saw you losing weight all year and I should have done something.”

            “You did.”

            “I should have done something sooner.”

            “Everything turned out pretty great in the end, though, didn’t they?”

            “Well, yeah, of course, but-”

            Instead of letting Harry finish his next, likely self-degrading, sentence, Louis interrupted again, this time with a kiss.

            “‘But’ doesn’t matter. Read the last entry.”

            Though he hesitated, Louis nodded at the diary encouragingly, so Harry picked it up with shaky fingers, flipping through until he found the one dated from that day. Swallowing hard, he began to read, tears still rolling down his cheeks. Louis wanted to wipe them away, but found it best to leave Harry be to read how Louis chose to end that particular part of his life; the one that had hurt both of them so much.

            “I love you so much,” Harry said weakly as he gently shut the journal, leaning his body into the smaller man and resting his head on his shoulder.

            “I love you too,” Louis said. “Now, since much of my song collection has been purchased, let’s go have celebration sex.”

            “That’s great that everything went so well, babe, and I’m proud of you, but I don’t think I can right now.”

            “Hmm…”

            Nudging Harry lightly to get him to sit up just a bit, Louis pressed their lips together, kissing him softly and then breaking it by biting the guy’s bottom lip gently, all the while one gentle finger making its way up Harry’s neck to wind itself around a loose curl.

            “I think it’s time you see all of the man you’re marrying though,” Louis reasoned once there was a noticeable change in Harry’s breaths.

            “Do I have to keep my eyes closed?” Harry asked, his own lips finding their way to Louis’s jawline.

            “No,” Louis assured him. “I opened my eyes, and I need to let you open yours too.”

           

           


	6. Chapter 6

_Dear diary,_

_Hi. It’s Harry. I guess you know me pretty well by now_ , _or, at least, how Louis describes me. I suppose you know Louis pretty well too, but only through Louis’s eyes. As much as I love that guy, he doesn’t see himself quite clearly. Despite what he says, he is beautiful, but there’s much more to him than that. He’s smart, kind, talented, selfless, hyper, funny and, damn it, he is strong. Being with Louis isn’t always easy, but that’s the same for all couples and the tough times are nothing compared to the good times. Louis’s smile is the best thing I’ve ever experienced besides his laugh. It took a while for me to get a genuine laugh out of him but, man, it was way worth the wait._

_There was a time I almost lost Louis. He dropped below one hundred pounds and he barely had enough energy to get out of bed. I was literally watching him die. Even then, though, he was the strongest person I knew because he kept going. He kept fighting. I am forever grateful that he did because I don’t know what I would have done if he didn’t make it. I don’t even know who I would be because I would be missing half of myself; the better half._

_Louis is so amazing and I don’t let a second pass without acknowledging how lucky I am. Louis is so much more than he’ll ever know, both to me and as an individual, but I think he’s finally starting to see himself through my eyes, just a little bit. I think maybe he’s starting to love himself, and that’s the best wedding present I could ever ask for._

 

            “Harry!”

            Jumping slightly at the urgency in his best friend’s voice, Harry shut the diary gently and put it back in its little box in the closet.

            “Coming, Z!”

            “Hurry up! We need to go!”

            Smiling, Harry quickly slipped on his shoes, fixed his hair one last time in the mirror and hurried downstairs, where Zayn gave him an approving once-over.

            “You look amazing. Louis is probably going to jump your bones in front of everyone.”

            “That would be a wedding to remember,” Harry commented. “Speaking of weddings, when are you proposing to Liam?”

            “Soon,” Zayn answered with a smile. “Very soon. But not today. Today is about you and Lou.”

            To Harry, the day was basically about Louis, like every day was, but then it hit him. Really hit him. _He_ was getting married too. He was getting married _to Louis_ ; the love of his entire life and afterlife.

            “No,” Zayn said, eyes growing wide as he took in Harry’s facial expression. “No crying. Not yet.”

            “I love him so much.”

            “I know you do, but we need to get going or he’s going to think you played the runaway bride.”

            Harry nodded and took a deep breath to pull himself together.

            “Alright. Let’s go.”

 

            The wedding went flawlessly, even though Harry couldn’t keep it together the whole time. He did pretty well, though, and he actually thought he would have made it through the whole thing, but once they were pronounced as husband and husband, Louis’s beautiful blue eyes became even bluer with tears and that was when Harry lost it. That was alright, though, because Harry couldn’t find a single dry eye in the place. The wedding was fairly small, as they wanted to keep it to only close family and friends who could really appreciate how truly special the day was, so the place was high in emotion. (Zayn totally did not cry though, he would later swear. He was simply allergic to the flowers.)

 

            The reception went even better than the ceremony, somehow. (Harry thought it was because he could actually touch Louis and kiss him whenever he wanted to.)

            Though Louis was in full recovery, he still ate pretty healthy, steering away from junk food most times, so when the cake was cut and Harry held out his fork to Louis, offering him a bite with a questioning eyebrow, and then, at that point, Louis beamed and accepted the dessert, Harry laughed, if a bit manically. He couldn’t help it.

Louis simply smiled back at him and gave him a sweet, delicious kiss. They’d come so far.

 

“Louis, darling, I think you owe me a dance.”

            The reception was starting to wind down and, exhausted, the grooms had set themselves down, planning to not get up the rest of the night. However, when Anne approached, kindly demanding a dance from her son-in-law, Louis complied graciously.

Soon, Harry was also approached by his own mother-in-law.

“May I?” she asked, nodding to Louis’s abandoned chair and, with a smile, Harry told her that of course she could.

“I just wanted to thank you, Harry,” she continued once she was settled.

“You’re very welcome,” Harry replied, then, “but what am I being thanked for?”

“For everything you’ve done for my son. For being there for him when I couldn’t…When I wouldn’t. You were so young, but so mature and understanding. You literally saved Louis’s life, Harry, I know that. Without you, I wouldn’t have my son.”

            Harry swallowed, fighting this time to keep his tears at bay. He appreciated the woman’s words, he really did, but he didn’t like to think about the what ifs of Louis not getting better.

            “I love him,” he said because he couldn’t think of anything else and that was the truest thing he could say anyway.

            “I know you do.”

            “Louis is so proud of you, Kate. We both are.”

            The woman smiled, but there was something sad about it.

            “I changed a little too late, I’m afraid. The damage has been done.”

            “It’s never too late. Wounds heal.”

            She smiled again; a happy smile that time, and Harry returned it.

            “Mr. Styles?”

            At the sound of his name, Harry turned towards the voice that had spoken, an even bigger smile on his face.

            “Yes, Mr. Styles?”

            Louis beamed.

            Before the two were even engaged, they had decided that when (‘if’, Louis had said) they got married, Louis would take the other’s last name. Louis had still been carrying his estranged father’s last name, and Harry had a feeling that was a heavier weight on his shoulders than Louis would admit. Besides, he looked like a Styles anyway, Harry thought.

            “May I have this dance?” Louis asked, holding out his hand with the most adorable sheepish grin on his face.

            “You can have whatever you want,” Harry told him, taking his hand and getting to his feet.

            “I just want you.”

            “Well, my love, you have me. Forever.”

            “Forever,” Louis repeated with a smile. Then he led his husband to the dance floor for the next of many dances that were yet to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaahhhh, it's over and I don't know how to feel :/ But I hope you all enjoyed it!!!!
> 
> Now I am going to shameless self promote and tell you to please send prompts to my tumblr. 
> 
> Don't know how to link it so.... http://it-hurts-doesnt-it.tumblr.com/
> 
> I want more writing practice :)
> 
> Thanks so much for all of the support I've gotten for my first fic! It was amazing and gave me so much inspiration :)

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more about Louis's recovery process and current mental health as the story goes on, I promise.


End file.
